


Jane the Radchaai

by DCBrierton



Category: Imperial Radch Series - Ann Leckie, Jane the Virgin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe—Imperial Radch, Bo decade - Freeform, Crossover, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 08:32:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12295350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DCBrierton/pseuds/DCBrierton
Summary: Even in space, Jane and Petra bring out each other's insecurities. Also, what's going on with their lieutenant?





	Jane the Radchaai

**Author's Note:**

  * For [definefreedom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/definefreedom/gifts).



> This story is set during the gatespace part of Ancillary Sword, from the point of view of Mercy of Kalr Bo One, aka Petra Solano.
> 
> As such, it is very AU for Jane the Virgin.

_The captain’s heart rate and respiration were elevated. Adrenaline surged through her. Ship held back from transmitting the feed of an Etrepa singing to herself as she worked,_ in your eyes my heart is lost, my heart is lost _. But it opened the section doors on the captain’s route a hair before it normally would, hoping to smooth her passage._

 

After the fleet-captain reviewed Bo decade’s work and pronounced it satisfactory, after she led away the new lieutenant for who-knew-what commendation or punishment, after their footsteps stopped ringing down the passageway, Bo One became aware of an unnatural stillness beside her.

“What?” She snapped, confusion making her irritable as it always did. “You heard Sir. You are all dismissed. Well done.”

The decade melted out of the mess around her, peeling off in twos and threes on their way to get a bare three hours’ sleep before their next day’s schedule began. She could hear them gossiping, the rumors about the fleet-captain and Bo’s lieutenant already mutating as they absorbed the new information from the review. She didn't speak up to stop them, because they were all well-trained not to mention their superiors by name, and especially never the captain. She re-squared her shoulders, and tried to think what her next responsibility should be. With such a new lieutenant, it was _her_ job to keep Bo decade’s work up to standard, even though everyone pretended it was the lieutenant’s. Even though she had no formal authority. Perhaps another duty roster, taking into account that she would have to convince their lieutenant it was all her own idea to—

“Petra! Are you even listening to me?” Bo Three stood with her face about two inches away from One’s. She must have been talking for some time, to be so close and so far removed from the conduct expected of the crew. Of course, Three had always struggled with maintaining a blank expression.

“Of course I am. Control yourself, Three.” One’s voice was cold, although she gestured softness subtly, shielded by her body. She silently asked Ship what she had missed, and Ship repeated in her ear Three’s injunction to rest after the decade’s hard work, as the others were doing. One rolled her eyes. “But I don’t have time to rest. You know as well as I do that we have a new lieutenant to train, and Sir is angry, and angry officers are dangerous officers.” One ran down as Three started to smile. “What?”

“Nothing, I just…” Three folded One in her arms, while One fidgeted uncomfortably, looking around to make sure they were alone. Three let go, but didn’t step back; instead, One reflexively folded her arms over her chest while Three let her hands fall on One’s shoulders. “Petra. Just breathe. Inhala, exhala. Inhala, exhala.”

“You got that from Nine!” Indignation colored One’s voice.

“Well, I did, but it’s working, isn’t it? Ship?”

_Bo Three is correct, soldier. Your levels of stress have begun to return to baseline._ Ship replied in One’s ear, though One suspected she was having another conversation with Three as well.

“Fine. If I promise to ‘breathe’, will you allow me to return to work?”

“Oh, I have a few other ideas about things that might help you relax.” Three let her hands slide down One’s sides suggestively.

“Jane!” One protested. “Not here!”

“Oh, but I’m ‘Jane’ now, am I?” Three gave One a teasing smile. “Well, at least come back to quarters, hmm? You can work after our shift starts. In three hours.” _Two hours and fifty-seven minutes,_ Ship corrected _._ One let herself be chivvied out the door. She really was very tired, now that she thought about it.

 

_The captain’s biometrics were returning to normal. She moved slowly down the corridors with Lieutenant Tisarwat—with the one who was impersonating Lieutenant Tisarwat, who had been interfering with Ship’s proper functioning and reporting. Ship carried on as usual, opening doors, responding to requests from Lieutenant Ekalu on the bridge, transmitting data to Medic that it had been impeded from sending before. But with its free processing resources, it played repeatedly through the past few days. Had there been a way to act differently, even with the accesses in place, to give the captain and crew more warning?_

 

One entered the mess and immediately began the morning prayer. Today, of all days, there was no sense in making the decade wait for their first taste of tea. “The flower of justice is peace…” The voices of the decade rose around her, and for few moments all was as it should be. She basked in the familiar order of the day.

As soon as she sat down, however, that order was broken by Nine walking into the mess, bouncing with enthusiasm. “Hello, my dear ones!” Nine walked around the table, embracing each of her decade-mates. Some, like Three, smiled and hugged her back, while others, like One, sat stiffly in their chairs.

“Shouldn’t the lieutenant’s breakfast be ready by now?” One asked sharply. “You may be new to this ship, but I thought you were prepared for a position of responsibility.”

Nine put her hands to her chest, gesturing hurt. “You wound me, decade leader! It is as I have always said to my dear friend Captain Awer, there is no use serving an officer who is herself not prepared to eat. And Ship tells me that our dear lieutenant is at the present time in Medical, and unlikely to leave there in time to break her fast. Thus I have come here, to take my own meal with my beloved daughter,” gesturing at Three, although to One’s knowledge they were merely distant cousins, “and my decade-mates.”

“That’s very good of you, Nine. I’m sure we’ll all enjoy your presence.” Three gently steered Nine into a seat, preventing her from expounding on her love for each of her decade-mates in turn. “I’ll let Eight know you’re here.” She slipped into the food preparation area and back again, deftly balancing several bowls of tea, which she passed out before seating herself.

One drank her tea, listening with one ear to the talk around the table. It was more subdued today than most days; Six, usually chatty, was barely awake, peering into her empty tea bowl like it might refill itself if she only wished hard enough. But Three was talking with Eight, quietly, about finding the will of Amaat in times of trouble. Nine gazed proudly at Three as though she really were Three’s mother. One looked around and realized that, in fact, most of the decade was looking at Three, hoping she would say something that would help them know how to help their new officer when the fleet-captain so obviously didn’t want her to succeed.

One looked back at her bowl of skel, playing with it to cover the sudden sinking in her stomach. With their officer in Medical and no one appointed to cover for her, _One_ should be the leader her decade looked to. _Was_ the leader who took over the lieutenant’s official duties, in fact who had been showing Tisarwat those duties since she came aboard, a young officer who barely knew them in theory, much less in practice, and who had come aboard terribly homesick, in addition. Yet Three was the emotional center of the team, the one they came to when an officer requested favors they didn’t want to give or they had a misunderstanding with a decade-mate and Ship refused to get involved. One couldn’t blame them—she was drawn to Three just like everyone else was. But the reminder of her own lack of nurturing skills still stung.

A gentle kick to her ankle pulled One out of her thoughts. She looked up to see Three’s eyes on her, a fond smile on her face. She queried Ship, who replied in her ear, _You may wish to send the decade to their work now, decade leader_. One took a last sip of her tea and stood, clearing her throat to draw the decade’s attention. “Thank you all for your work yesterday. I know we had a shortened sleep cycle, and I expect that you will be tired today; however, please maintain a high standard of work. In so doing, you reflect well on the honor of Bo decade, our officers, and Mercy of Kalr itself. Three, may I see you briefly to adjust the schedules?” Six elbowed Four and giggled at that last remark. One sent her a stern look, but secretly was relieved to hear the giggles; as little as she enjoyed speculation about her private affairs, it was a daily fixture in the decade. Normal.

As the others filtered out to the training and maintenance duties they’d need to complete before Bo’s turn standing watch, One and Three sat next to each other at the table, preparing to modify the unit’s schedules to allow time for the tasks that the fleet-captain had brought to their attention. Three pulled up Bo decade’s daily routine on the console embedded in the table, fiddling with the margins and color-coding while One recalled the list of cleaning tasks that had been neglected and needed to be added to the schedule.

“The shower drains should go quickly if we clean them regularly, so we can just add those in to the list for Four and Eight when they scrub the shower. They shouldn’t need more time.”

“Got it.”

“Now, the shuttle airlocks…”

“Oh, that’s a problem. The outside one especially. Maybe if we…” One and Three bent over the schedule together. There was no extra time. It wasn’t fair that the fleet-captain had added so much to their workload. And where was Bo’s lieutenant? One silently queried Ship. Ship transmitted that she was still in Medical. It didn’t make any sense. Frustrated, One turned back to Three.

“I think we’ll have to take time from conditioning. Maybe here.” One pointed at the schedule.

“We can’t take time from conditioning, not when we don’t know what things will be like when we get there!” Three’s face betrayed her hurt; she always took it personally when One impinged on her domain.

“The airlocks are heavy work. It will be the same.” One gestured unconcern.

“Conditioning isn’t just heavy work!” Three sounded scandalized. “It’s deliberate, targeted repetition of strength-building and skill-building movements! I’ve made a specialized plan for every member of the decade! Cleaning an airlock is just… it’s not the same!” She faced One in a pose of indignation.

One responded by blanking her face and her stance carefully, to remind Three what ship they were on and who had seniority here. “Are you telling me we don’t have time to clean the airlocks, as we have been ordered?” She kept her tone pointedly neutral.

Three mirrored One’s neutrality, an automatic, trained reaction. “No, of course not. I just… it _isn’t_ the same. Although there are a few soldiers… Ten, certainly, and Seven… perhaps others… who could use more experience with micro-gravity. Perhaps if we assigned them the airlocks, and took the time here… and here…” Her fingers flew over the console, rearranging the schedule so quickly One couldn’t follow, had to look away to prevent herself from growing dizzy. “There!”

One looked back at the schedule, skimmed to make sure the rotations still worked. “Well done, Three,” she said, formally, closing the console down.

“Thank you,” said Three. Her eyes still turned down to the console. Her voice was neutral, but something about it made One hesitate to move on to her next task.

“Three? Is everything alright?” Three made a small movement, but didn’t speak. “Jane?”

Three looked up. “I’m sorry. I know you’re so busy, and everyone’s relying on you to keep things normal, whatever’s happening to the lieutenant. But I—“ She took a gasping breath, and began to cry. One patted her on the back, hoping her awkwardness wasn’t apparent. Three deserved better. Perhaps she should go find someone with a more reassuring affect. She queried Ship about Eight’s location, but before it could respond, Three took a deep breath and continued. “I’m just so tired, and I didn’t mean to fight with you about the airlocks, and I’m worried about the lieutenant—of course you are too.”

“And you have been comforting everyone else in the decade, and no one thinks to wonder how you are.”

“It’s not—that’s not their job.”

“It isn’t your job to care for them, either. It’s mine.” One’s head was suddenly heavy. She could feel tears begin to pool behind her own eyes. “One I’m not doing. I can’t do.”

“Petra, no! One!” One’s eyes were averted as she tried to prevent her tears from falling, but she could hear alarm in Three’s voice. “That’s not what I was saying.”

“No. Of course not. You didn’t need to.” One stood up. She had to plan to stand watch for Bo’s lieutenant today—even if she was released from Medical on time, she probably wouldn’t be up to a six hour watch. Which meant that by now One should have already inspected several of the areas on the ship that Bo was responsible for maintaining. “I need to see to my responsibilities.” She left the mess without turning to look at Three, afraid of the confirmation she knew she’d find on the other soldier’s face.

 

_The captain paced through Medical, her visual inputs fixed on Medic, her blood pressure elevated. Ship fed instructions to Medic, simultaneously referring an Etrepa with a minor injury to her decade combat medic to keep Medical quiet. It didn’t know what to send to the captain. Would a Kalr’s singing be intrusive? Would she want to know more about what Medic was doing, or less? Ship decided to transmit the singing for now, hoping she would reach out with a clear request in return._

 

The conversation at lunch circled several times over the subject of the lieutenant and the fleet-captain. One listened, splitting her attention between the rumors about what the fleet-captain had done to the lieutenant after taking her away from Bo decade, and carefully checking that no-one’s actual speech referred explicitly to the fleet-captain. Although everyone was careful, phrased their sentences to use only the generic “she” for the captain, still, One was relieved when Eight began to clear away the empty bowls and she could stand and address the decade, asking them to check their updated assignments in the schedule and to push on through the rest of the day’s responsibilities. Everyone was tired, but they couldn’t afford to appear slack now. Not with a new captain who bore every appearance of a grudge against their lieutenant. There was some grumbling at this, and One found herself tense again as everyone filed out to their duties, fighting the urge to hold the decade back and inspect them. They’d already been inspected once today, by the fleet-captain no less. She needed to give them space. Three would certainly tell her that she needed to give them space.

“Something on your mind?” Two bumped One’s shoulder in a friendly way. “Schedule says you should be on your way to stand watch right now… and, as it so happens, I’m on as support. But maybe you were going to go ask after the lieutenant?”

“Ship says the lieutenant is still in Medical. I don’t think there’s anything I can do.”

“You don’t think you should ask her how long you’ll be in charge for?”

“No! I can handle things. And I don’t want her attention on us. There’s nothing she should be concerned about, but one never knows.”

“No.”

At the door to the bridge, they passed Six and Eight. As One scanned herself in, Two paused, to flirt jokingly with Eight, probably, but One knew from long experience that there was no stopping Two from flirting when the officers weren’t looking. Still, it stung to hear Eight call as she turned away, “Have fun with the dragon!” She must have thought One couldn’t hear; she’d never called her that to her face. None of them did. Yet One knew that she was the dragon, had spent time asking Ship to call up stories of dragons from other parts of the Radch, hoping she’d learn something to make the epithet sting less. She hadn’t.

One received the handoff report from Kalr One. As usual in gate space, there was nothing to report. One tried not to feel awkward receiving the report; even with the disruptions recently, she was used to assisting the watch officer, not standing watch herself. Under the previous captain, none of the crew had received training in carrying out duties usually given to the officers; there was no reason to do so, with promotions to officer from within the ranks so unusual. Of course they couldn’t be done on ships with ancillaries, and even on human-crewed ships there were no protocols. One always felt slightly adrift on the bridge with no officer; even more so today, with her lack of sleep and Lieutenant Tisarwat in Medical for unknown reasons. She took refuge in blankness, seeing the Kalrs off the bridge and then settling into the command chair.

“You’re upset again. Anything I should know?” Two stood to her side, as One did for Tisarwat when the lieutenant stood watch and One served as support.

It was a legitimate question; especially with a new officer, One and Two functioned as a team, watching over the decade and training up the new lieutenant into someone they could be proud of. But One just shook her head, turned back to her log entry. With nothing expected to happen, it might be blank throughout, just her signing in and out, but she should still sign in on time. You never knew. When she finished, Two had the main display showing the diagnostics for the sensors on the ship’s hull. One focused her attention on the screen, looking for any disruption in the pattern, any result outside of tolerance.

About a quarter of the way through the routine checks, Two tried again.“Petra. If there’s something going on with you, I need to know about it. Now is the time. You know now is the time—Four’s bound to show up soon. Tell me what’s going on.” Two’s voice, usually neutral, was growing insistent.

“It’s nothing that affects you, Rafael,” bit out One, resenting her attempts at intimacy but not refusing to acknowledge them. “It’s nothing that affects the decade.”

“Petra. One. I care about you. I want to know what’s bothering you.”

“Then why do you let them call me a monster?” One heard the words come out of her mouth, appalled. She turned back to the diagnostics and keyed to advance the screens, deliberately, trying to get herself back under control. If Three were here—well, she’d probably tell One they should “hug it out” or say something inane like “You need to feel your feelings, Petra.” One wasn’t sure that would be better.

Two was standing, motionless, her face a mask. She waited until One paused at a reading from one of the aft sensors to say, evenly, “I haven’t heard anyone call you a monster. I wouldn’t allow it.”

“A dragon _is_ a monster. You heard Eight call me that ten minutes ago.” One turned back to the display, returned to scanning impatiently through the readings.

When the scans finished, One returned the main display to the blankness of gate space around them. Some of the crew found it eerie, but she found it restful. She unfocused her eyes, gazing out at nothing.

Two put a hand on her shoulder, breaking the quiet. “That’s not what she meant.”

“No? Do you think I haven’t heard them call me that before?”

“No, I mean, she did call you a dragon. But it’s not— _I_ call you that. When they’re nervous, afraid that someone will come down on them too hard, afraid of what she’ll do to our lieutenant or upset they’ve failed to perform as well as they should have at some task. I tell them you’re a dragon, of course, anyone could see that—but you’re the dragon protecting us. You protect Bo decade, protect the lieutenant—you’d protect the whole ship, if you could. It’s what makes you a great leader.” Her eyes on One’s were earnest. When One looked away,she tightened her hand on One’s shoulder.

“They don’t call you things like that. Or Three. They call her ‘mother’, sometimes, or ‘daughter’. Nine called her ‘my beloved daughter’ today, and me ‘decade leader.’” One clenched her hands on the armrests. It didn’t make sense that this hurt—she’d gone into the military as soon as she was old enough, precisely to get away from her useless excuse for a house. She hadn’t needed them since, hadn’t even missed them. Why did it hurt to be reminded that no-one thought of her as a daughter or even a cousin? And especially when the person in question was Nine, who One didn’t even like?

“Well, that’s Nine, isn’t it? She’s like that with everyone. And didn’t you ask her to call you ‘decade leader’ instead of ‘beautiful leader’ and so on?” Two struck a pose reminiscent of Nine’s default stance. “My glorious and most beautiful leader, please show me the way to Shuttle Two!”

One suppressed a smile at the imitation. “I suppose so.”

“So, there you go. She’s trying to fit in.”

One didn’t have anything to say to that, so she said nothing. Instead she directed Ship to begin rotating the display through views of the ship’s interior, cameras showing Bo continuing to clean hallways, Etrepas in the mess and the gym or beginning to filter into their sleeping quarters. Two indicated a view displaying Four darting through a corridor. “Anything else we need to discuss?”

“No.”

“You’d let me know?”

At that moment Four burst through the door to the bridge. “Sorry, sorry… I forgot which schedule we were on. Did I miss anything?”

 

_The captain hovered as Medic stabilized her patient. Ship fed her data from Medic’s linked implants, showing the ancillary-style implants had been deactivated and hidden. Unasked, it also included a short snippet of some of Bo decade singing wearily as they scrubbed a corridor floor,_ Calcium, builds up your bones, Potassium, with water explodes _…_

 

One returned from the bridge to the mess, finding a subdued Bo decade gathered for dinner. She sent a questioning glance across to Three, who quirked her lips as if to say, yes, it was this quiet before you got here. One squared her shoulders, took the bowl of tea Eight offered, and remained standing. She gestured for attention with the hand holding the tea as she checked in with Ship. “Thank you, all of you, for your work today. I know you’re worried about the lieutenant; I am myself. But I am sure she will return to us soon. For now, let us carry on our work so that she may be justly proud of us when she sees what we have accomplished in her absence, and so we may be prepared to care for her on her return.” One sat, and began to eat with studied composure.

The meal passed quickly, quietly. There were a few murmurs around the table, soldiers swapping jokes about the Propriety Turtle or comparing notes about what they’d seen as they’d walked past Medical during their duty shift. One considered whether she should stop the gossip, but decided she was too tired to bother. They were all too tired, really, to get into trouble. Near the end of her bowl of skel, she noticed the room becoming quieter and looked up to assess the situation. She met Three’s eyes immediately, the look on her face suggesting she had something she wanted to say, was looking for One’s support or permission. One gestured indifference and reached out to Ship, asking it to let Three know she could speak.

Three’s face softened with relief. She spoke, her voice cutting over the few conversations among the decade. “As you know, physical training is an important part of your duties. The poet Minaster once said, ‘Each day we wake/ grinding the year a bit finer/ one more grain of sand upon the beach,’ and we follow that principle in our work, doing each day what is just, proper, and beneficial so that we may grow strong and capable in our service to the Radch.” Around the table, soldiers rolled their eyes or shifted in their seats, used to Three’s sense of the importance of all actions but not looking forward to their training shifts after dinner. ‘However, as the poet also says, ‘The tide rolls out/ we remain at home.’ Sometimes, what is most proper and beneficial is to rest. If you need to rest instead of training tonight, please do.” She sat down, meeting One’s eyes, a slight challenge on her face. One smiled at her, approving the decision, and picked at the skel remaining in her bowl.

As if released by Three’s words, soldiers started to leave the mess in ones and two, most turning toward the decade’s sleeping quarters, though Ship told One that a few were heading to the firing range or the gym, pursuing their usual training schedule. Two stood up from her seat next to One, clapped her on the back, and headed for the gym. As Eight carried out the last few bowls from the table, One looked up and set her shoulders, mentally preparing for her hardest task of the day.

“Ready to come to bed?” Three’s voice was quiet, pitched too low to be heard by Eight in the adjoining food preparation area.

“Not yet. I still have to—find the lieutenant, or find out what’s happened to her.” One held her hands carefully in her lap, resisting the impulse to reach out to Three for comfort.

Three slid into Two’s chair, reaching out to touch One’s elbow. “She’s not back? Ship hasn’t told you what’s happening?”

“Ship says to ask _her_.” One tried to still the disquiet in her chest.

Three nodded, her face serious. “You don’t want to.”

“I don’t have a choice.”

“But you don’t want to.” She moved her gloved hand from One’s arm to her neck, finding the tense spots and rubbing gentle circles around them.

“No. It’s—it doesn’t feel safe.” Three was silent, only her hand moving. One, too, had run out of anything to say. Ship spoke in her head, its unasked-for contribution making her jump at the same time Three tightened her hand on One’s shoulder. Was she hearing Ship too? _The new captain is not like the last one. It will be alright._

“It’ll be alright.” Three echoed. “I know you’ll do fine. And Petra?”

“What is it?”

“I want you to know—what you’re about to do? Everything you’ve done today? That’s the part of taking care of everyone that’s your job. You’re amazing at it.” One looked at Three’s face, then away. It was open and earnest, Three obviously trying to push her belief into One any way she could.

One felt a sob rise in her throat. She was so tired. But she swallowed it down, nodding slowly. She could do this. She could protect the decade, protect the lieutenant, by facing down the fleet-captain, finding out what they all needed to do to avoid further problems.

“And when you’re done, I’ll be waiting for you. Okay? Whatever you need.” Three’s voice was insistent, her hand behind One’s head making sure she had eye contact.

“Yes. Thank you, Jane.” One noted the flash of a smile on Three’s serious face at the use of her given name. “I’ll return when I’m done.” She pushed back her chair to stand up.

“Okay.” Three stood as well, moving around the table to push in chairs and tidy the space.

One gestured farewell and started out the door to find the fleet-captain. She didn’t want to, but if it was what her soldiers needed from her, she could do it. Put up her scaly armor and be the dragon they needed.But as she walked past Three, she gave into impulse, asked Ship for help, and a storage closet door slid open on its own. She reached out for Three and pulled them both into the closet, Ship sliding the door shut again without instruction. Three’s arms enfolded One in a gentle hug, hands rubbing slowly along her shoulders. One softened briefly, then pulled back as she felt tears threatening to spill into Three’s hair.

She took Three’s face between her gloved hands and pressed their mouths fiercely together. Three made a small, surprised squeak, and One laughed in the back of her throat as she continued the kiss, pushing Three back against the closed door. Three pulled One in tightly, wrapping one leg around hers, and One urgently tried to lose herself in sensation. There was nothing but their bodies pressed together, Three’s warm mouth against One’s hungry one, her strong arms and soft curves against One’s needy limbs.

“Wait.” Three held One back by the shoulders. “Are you—Petra? Weren’t you on your way to—”

One rolled her eyes at Three’s inconvenient sense of duty. “We’ll make it quick.” She swallowed uncomfortably. “Please. Jane.”

Three gestured assent, barely visible in the dim space. She pressed a quick kiss to One’s lips. “Well, if we’re going for quick…” She pulled One back to her, then dropped her hands to One’s uniform fastenings. “We’d better get started.”

 

_The captain’s hormone levels were returning to normal, but Ship could see she wouldn’t sleep yet. She was anticipating one more confrontation. Ship considered telling Bo One that now was the time to speak to the captain, but just as it decided that doing so would intrude on the captain’s privacy, Bo One exited the mess on her own, smoothing her uniform and subvocalizing a request that Ship tell her where she could find the captain. Ship complied gladly._


End file.
